


Galahad's Last Summer

by fauxcorona



Category: Kingsman (Movies), Mamma Mia! (2008)
Genre: Crossover, Dot Dot Dot, F/M, Friendship, Inexperienced Harry, Romance, Young Donna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-26 20:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauxcorona/pseuds/fauxcorona
Summary: It’s Donna Sheridan, it’s her trip to Paris, it’s basically Mamma Mia! Except it’s Harry Hart (instead of Harry Bright).Set in 1985 when it was the beginning of Donna’s long haul adventure and the early days of Harry as a junior Kingsman agent.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> • Year adjustment to fit Harry’s age (originally it’s 1979 when Donna graduated). Harry Hart and Harry Bright ain’t the same person here; this story is written more like to see how things can go if we substitute the character (since, of course, this is mostly inspired by the iconic Colin Firth playing different iconic Harrys on both iconic movies lol) so we have a crossover of Kingsman and Mamma Mia as a result.
> 
> • I’m inserting Harry Hart with all his Kingsman context into the Mamma Mia story but I’m also trying to stick to the Mamma Mia 1&2 canons, so you can expect me to combine Hart and Bright’s characterizations and other canons.
> 
> • Also the key reference of this story: song from Mamma Mia 1, ‘Our Last Summer’ by Colin Firth, Pierce Brosnan, Stellan Skarsgård.
> 
> • Contains a bit use French, but since it’s not my first language, pardon me if you find language mistakes!

 

**Paris, 1985**

Arriving in Paris, Donna Sheridan went straight to her hotel. The place was small but not far from the downtown, the streets in front of it were quite busy but she was surprised to find the lobby so quiet and empty. She wandered around to find the concierge but there seemed none, so she decided to go outside and take a look around the neighborhood as she waited for the concierge to return.

She saw a pretty, small café just around the corner and decided to pop in. To her surprise, the place was rather fancy on the inside, but instead of leaving to find somewhere cheaper she decided to stay, because this was what she started to like from the French: their attention to details that comes in small, private extent.

Ordering her first meal in Paris, she had her hopes high when it comes to culinary. Her plate was finally served on her table, only to have her excitement dropped drastically.

“Excusez-moi, puis-je en avoir deux de plus, s'il vous plaît?” she asked the waiter, and a moment later, the waiter returned with two more plates of the same dish.

“Merci!” she thanked the waiter, and quickly went self-conscious that other customers around her were staring at her and her big, big breakfast with a slight confused—or maybe a bit disgusted—look. She didn’t care at all and proceeded to eat her breakfast, until one time she caught a man staring at her in a more peculiar way.

On the table next to Donna’s, this suave young man with a dashing suit looked at her with such an amused smile. Before Donna could dismiss his glare from getting a little pissed off, the man looked down and continued to finish his meal. Minutes passed and when she thought these moments of embarrassment had over, she found herself making eye contacts with the man a couple of times. So that’s it, Donna thought, she’s going to take the piss.

“Bonjour,” she greeted, approaching his table once her meal was finished. “J'ai des questions puisque tu me donnes ce regard,” she stated her discomfort straightforwardly, “maintenant je peux m'asseoir ici?” she asked, pointing at the empty chair in front of him.

The man only nodded, his face seemed indifferent but in the slightest bit he was surprised by Donna’s fluent French that almost didn’t sound foreign at all, regarding her demeanor. In his mind, he cursed at himself for being too obvious, staring at her like that; he knew what he had done was actually trivial and he believed anyone in the room noticed her oddity too, but for God’s sake, he was a bloody spy. A junior spy, though, but he mustn’t have got caught staring by a commoner just like that.  

“Je viens d'arriver à Paris et je ne vais pas rester longtemps,” Donna said as she took a seat in front of the man, “Alors, pouvez-vous me dire comment puis-je profiter au maximum de mon temps ici? Où me conseillez-vous d'explorer?”

The man just smiled, still amused by the quirky combination of her manners and fluency in French. He waited until she finished her words, before answering her with a small, amused smile.

“Nice French.”

Donna looked at him in confusion, furrowing her eyebrows, considering what language to speak next. “Are you being sarcastic or is that really a compliment?”

“No, honestly. Your French is excellent. I mean it.” he answered, straightened his seat as he felt the conversation went a little more profound.

“Then how do you know that it’s not my first language when I spoke it perfectly?” Donna asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

The man’s smile grew wider. “Most French eat their breakfast one-third your portion.” he answered, eyeing the empty plates on Donna’s table.

“So you’ve been looking at how I ate,” she responded, still suspiciously. “You could’ve been wrong, you know? Maybe I was just starving.” she complained, taking a piece of sliced bacon from the man’s plate, which got him somewhere between more and less surprised.

“But I wasn’t,” he responded proudly, a small winning smile on his face.

“Cheeky,” Donna said and then chuckled. “I’m Donna.” she said, reaching out her hand.

“Harry. Pleasure to meet you.” he responded and shook her hand, and he quickly regretted saying his real name. Through his Kingsman training and a number of accomplished missions, he had always been determined not to engage with strangers and just stick to the mission.

But here he was, stuck with a fascinating stranger, questioning his most natural instinct that led him to revealing his true identity.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As requested, Harry agreed on taking Donna for a walk around the town. They made their way along the Seine river, and walked some more until they reached the Eiffel Tower.

Along the way, Harry was determined to get used to Donna’s spirit and energy around him. She seemed and sounded really passionate when she told him her stories and plans. She was the kind of person whose state of being cheerful was all-time high, very contrary to Harry’s nature, both his truest nature and the manners he’d been taught all this time. Nonetheless, he found himself quite impressed by that as he started to enjoy her company.

Arriving at the Champ de Mars, Donna stared at the landmark in awe she could look at it forever. She sat on the lush grass as her eyes never left the sight of the tower, still adoring it.

She patted the space next to her, gesturing Harry to sit with her. Harry, of course, hesitated at first but proceeded to do so, unbuttoning his suit jacket first before sitting down next to her.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he asked, amused by her response to witnessing the iconic mega structures for the first time.

“Pretty? This is exquisite,” she responded.

“It’s a shame you’re leaving soon,” Harry replied, knowing there’s a lot more to see and explore there for this curious young woman next to him.

“I can always go back here, but my next destination awaits,” she responded without a doubt, “There’s this beautiful small island in Greece called Kalokairi,”

Harry smiled at her excitement, imagining the splendor of the island himself.

“That sounds like a place for me.” she added.

They spent the rest of the day strolling down the city until it was nearly dusk. It was only hours, but those hours felt like forever, in a good way. Harry thought it might be a mistake for spending his free time of his mission like that, but somehow he was glad it happened. It was only hours but it was enough for both of them in getting to know each other, although Harry, of course, had to modify his backgrounds for his own sake.

They bid their farewell, knowing their brief time had come to an end and they might not see each other again since both of them have their own long-term businesses on the next day.

It was a one fine day, really.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day was a big deal to Agent Galahad’s mission in Paris. He was scheduled to attend the opening night of an exhibition at Musée d’Orsay. His target was a young female philanthropist, Fleur De Verley. Once arrived at the museum, he walked up to the mezzanine then his vision scanned the hall below him, searching for his target.

It was an easy move. Harry found his target and made his way to reach her and introduce himself as Charles Asher. The woman welcomed him, and not long after that Harry was engaged in a light conversation with her and her other acquaintances.

“Harry?” suddenly a voice called, a bit too loud that the crowd turned to see the person.

“Harry… who?” Fleur responded, completely clueless she turned around to Harry and the other guests to see if there’s by any chance someone called by that name. “—Harold,” Harry quickly corrected, “It’s short for Harold, my middle name.” he added, making it up. “Miss De Verley, this is Donna Sheridan. A friend.” he introduced her, allowing them to shake their hands.

“Bonjour,” Donna greeted, “Harry and I met just yesterday, actually.” she said to Fleur, and it was responded with a confused look yet a kind smile. Hearing that, of course, Harry gulped nervously that he found the piece of information Donna just said unnecessary and… could be suspicious.

“Aren’t you supposed to be leaving for Kalokairi today?” Harry asked, his tone was casual but underneath he was terrified as heck, because Donna’s presence nearly blew up his cover. And his mission was still at risk if she stayed put until God knows how long.

“I am, but luckily I haven’t make my trip to Greece yet today. Just found out the boat to Kalokairi only leaves on Monday, which is still in two days.” she answered simply. Harry wasn’t certain if he had to feel glad or even more terrified at the discovery of Donna’s extended stay in Paris.

“And how did you get here? Hadn’t heard about your plans to this opening night,” Harry asked again, his tone consistently polite as he was speaking in front of Fleur, though he was starting to get pissed at such coincidence.

“The owner of the hotel I’m staying at is one of the featured artists here. Monsieur Elliot Chapelle,” Donna answered, and that received a bemused look from Fleur, Harry, and the other guests. Especially Fleur. “So he invited me,” she added. “Lucky you,” Fleur responded gleefully, and Donna smiled proudly.

“What’s Kalokairi, by the way?” Fleur asked, getting interested in Donna’s story. Being asked like that, Donna smiled and her face lit up, then she started describing the island enthusiastically.

A moment later Donna excused herself to take a look around the museum, allowing Harry and Fleur to proceed with their conversations.

 

 

* * *

 

 

For once in awhile, Harry let his target engage herself into other guests and made room for himself to see what to do next. He stood by the drink counter, a glass of scotch in his hand, his eyes never left Fleur and wandered around the surroundings as he tried not to be too obvious.

The interiors of the museum were originally majestic, and now with the big exhibition, it was decorated and even more delicate to see. He scanned the room and found no signs of Donna. At that knowing he was both relieved and, as the back of his mind told him, disappointed. Although maybe only a bit.

Because really, it was such an ugly coincidence. He started to wonder if things would be much better hadn’t he met her there in Paris, but somewhere else or some time when he’s not in a mission. But there she was, turning up out of the blue, as charming as he could remember the first day he saw her, even more now by appearing with an off-shoulder blue satin dress.

Harry furiously shook his head, dismissing his rambling thoughts. He knew he was getting insensible and had to refocus to the mission immediately. With that, he sipped his last remaining scotch and prepared himself to re-approach his target, maybe asking for a dance this time.

“Why didn’t you just tell me your real nickname?” a voice asked, startling Harry as it came from behind him with a tap on his shoulder.

“What are you? A spy?” Donna added, and by God, Harry nearly lost his shit.

Nevertheless, Harry tried to compose himself, attempting not to sound overwrought or tense.

“Actually, _Harry_ is my real nickname.” he replied, defending himself, and at that second he really wanted to slap himself once again for only indirectly revealing his purpose and identity.

Donna fell silent for a moment, looking at him suspiciously. “So, you _do_ play aliases.” she accused. “Who hired you? MI6? CIA—?”

“—Shhh,” Harry quickly silenced her, pulling her to the dance floor and before both could say another word, they started to sway. With this, Harry thought they could exchange words quietly and without looking too suspicious.

“I can’t tell you,” he whispered.

Donna giggled, satisfied that her guess was spot on. At least. “Alright,” she replied.

“You must be new in the business, aren’t you?” she guessed again, considering the many times she caught his odd behavior and now, getting him to admit if he was a spy.

“One of my firsts,” Harry simply replied, sighing at the thought that he really had messed up.

Donna smiled understandingly, but mostly still in satisfaction at the discovery. “Okay Harry, since I got you,” she replied, “Would you mind telling me which person are you tailing?”

Harry fell silent, knowing this is where he must keep his mouth shut.

“Oh wait, just let me guess.” Donna said before Harry could come up with an alibi.

“De Verley.” she said, her tone was stern as if she could read his mind. Harry did plan on making things up, but he was too dumbfounded Donna could see the nervousness in his eyes as he glared at her in silence.

“Unfortunately, no—” “I know, I know. It really is her, isn’t it?” Donna cut in, and Christ it put Harry at such an absolute discomfort. He sighed, surrendering once more. “You’re a freaking bad liar, Harry.” she commented, chuckling in amusement.

“I ain’t the most spontaneous person,” he replied. “I was about to ask her for a dance just before you bumped into me,” he added in annoyance.

“Oh,” she responded, “I’m so sorry I didn’t—” “—Of course, don’t worry.” Harry ensured, looking away to his surroundings to spot his target again.

“Too bad,” Harry suddenly said, finding his mark before Donna could. Donna, out of reflex, turned her face to find Fleur. “Don’t look at her like that—” Harry quickly anticipated, turning around so his back was facing the direction of Fleur and now Donna could see her without having to turn her face.

Now able to see Harry’s target, Donna found Miss De Verley not far from them. She was also on the dance floor, swaying with a slender, dashing man. “Too bad what?” she asked Harry innocently.

Harry looked at her in confusion, confirming the obviousness. “She’s already dancing with another man out there.” he explained simply.

“So?” Donna asked again.

“So…?” Harry asked even more confusedly.

“It doesn’t mean you can’t go there and ask for his permission, right?” she pointed out, not getting why it was such a problem to this gentleman spy.

Harry fell silent, a slight of embarrassment formed in his mind.

“Right,” Harry responded, and before Donna could mock him further, he excused himself to meet Fleur.

 _“Harry Hart, Harry Hart. Superspy, superspy,”_ he told himself as he left for his target, cursing at himself for being incredibly foolish. Donna watched him leave to approach Fleur, smiling at herself, realizing that she had been annoying and helpful at the same time to this inexperienced spy.

She went to get herself a drink, deciding to stay for a little while out of sheer curiosity of Harry’s work. By God, it was only her first trip out of her long journey and she already met such a dangerously interesting person. She wondered what’s next.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 'Dot Dot Dot' below

Harry knew he was going to do just fine by following Donna’s instructions, but he decided to wait until the music ends, then he could make his way to ask Fleur to be his dance partner before the next song begins.

The man dancing with Fleur dismissed himself politely, and Harry could see that Fleur was pleased to change partners from her expressions.

“That was brave,” she said to him. “Dismissing a lady from dancing with a charming man every woman in the room had been yearning,” she added, then they began to sway.

“Apologies,” Harry responded, a bit intimidated but he knew he could come up with something smart. “I thought that’s what a real gentleman does to a lady every man in the room had been longing to dance with,” he continued calmly. “No, no, you’re right, don’t be sorry Charles,” she cut in, “I like that.” she said, and Harry responded with a winning smile. They gazed at each other once Harry acknowledged her compliment, with Fleur staring at him rather seductively.

Wow, this was easier than Harry thought, really.

But then he remembered; part of this success was courtesy of Donna Sheridan. Bless her, he thought.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Looks like our gentleman spy has succeeded,” a voice suddenly came out, startling Harry as he exited the building to the promenade in front of it.

“Can you please not saying it out loud?” he replied, looking around their surroundings to make sure nobody heard her, then sighed in annoyance. Donna could be innocent since his work was nowhere near her area but part of him thought she did some things on purpose.

“I whispered that!” she defended. “Whisper, really?” Harry retorted, a hint of irritation in his tone. Why did she remain there, anyway?

He took Donna’s hand, pulling her to take them somewhere more private. They went to stand by the railings of the promenade, a place quite distant from people crowding the stairway to the museum entrance and passerby barely seen around. The stream of Seine river flowed calmly beneath them, the waters lit with reflections of night lights along the way.

“Look, Donna. You know I’m new in my business. And now you got me. I am lucky because you have no ties to my target, and my work has not put you in danger…” Harry stated sternly, almost with no pause until he reached the end, “…so far.”

They were silent for a moment, with Donna acknowledging it still inappropriate to say a word, yet.

“Now I don’t want to be rude, but for your own sake, please. I’d appreciate it enormously if you don’t get involved with my work.” Harry concluded, almost without a regret. He knew he was doing it right by saying that, no matter what.

Donna was silent, but it wasn’t long until she came into a realization. “I never intended to be involved in your work, Harry.” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “We just… bumped into each other, somehow. And I think you should thank me for helping you with the dance.”

She could see Harry’s eyes softened within seconds before they blinked nervously. He then let a small sigh, looking away for a while before his attention returned to her.

“Right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Well thank you for that one,” he spoke, clear and tender now. Donna only replied with a sigh, relieved that their small argument didn’t go long-drawn. She looked away, staring at the river below them, then the rest of their surroundings.

“Such a night too lovely to waste,” she mumbled, dismissing themselves from the topic they just argued for a while, referring the sceneries of the night she was gazing at. Harry looked at her, suddenly felt a little guilty for perhaps being too hard though he knew it was for the sake of his mission.

She had a point, and maybe the problem was himself and not her. Besides, he could’ve bumped into someone worse, far worse than this free spirit, than a company in an enchanting blue dress, than having something stirring a little down his upper abdomen, whatever it was. She came here to Paris to have fun, anyway.

“Yes,” he replied simply, joining her by standing closer to the railings, leaning his elbows on them, staring at the river absentmindedly.

“So how was it? The dance with Miss De Verley?” she asked, something that had been at the current peak of her curiosity. Harry didn’t answer right away, contemplated for one last time that he really could trust this woman. Really, though. Not all missions allow you to find such company.

“I got her. She invited me for dinner tomorrow.” he finally answered, and that made Donna giggle.

“Oh my God,” she said in between her laughter. “What?” Harry replied, not expecting such response. Donna let herself laugh a little more at the thought of the news, getting herself together before she could explain.

“The woman wants you. Nice job there, Harry Hart.” she answered, and continued laughing. He smiled in relief, acknowledging it. “I suppose so.” How ever he did it, it was by far an achievement and he should be proud.

“You’re going to need to impress her, Harry.” Donna said, warningly. Her tone got serious but the toothy grin lingered on her face, still amused by the story. “I know.” Harry replied, raising his eyebrows in agreement.

“So what’s next?”

“I haven’t come up with a solid plan, really.” he admitted, “Maybe trying to impress her by showing my fake million-dollar manor on the countryside after the dinner.”

Hearing his answer, Donna snorted, almost choking. “Only that??”

“You heard me.” Harry replied calmly, not sensing anything odd until the silence was a bit too long between them and he started to become uneasy.

“Why…?” he asked innocently, but that didn’t get Donna to explain right away, in hopes she could hear him realizing something.

“I missed something, didn’t I?” he asked again, getting a bit more nervous now, the back of his head trying to guess every single possibility.

“ _Harry,_ ” Donna started, getting herself together after went shocked. “You’re engaging a rich woman, she _doesn’t need_ your money.” she explained, and Harry stayed silent, trying to process her words.

“She wants _you._ And _you,_ are the one who’s going to _impress_ her.”

Harry was dumbfounded, silent. For God’s sake, he’s a spy and shouldn’t have been lectured by a commoner like Donna. But the woman got a point here.

“ _Oh,_ ” was all he could respond, when he came into a realization.

“Oh my God, Harry…” Donna stared at him in worry,

 

“…you’ve never done that, have you?”

 

Harry stayed silent, in fact there was a long awkward silence as they both connected the dots until he let out a sigh in admission.

“Frankly, I had a lot of NLP training but never thought this day would come where I should go… _Bond-esque_.”

 

“ _Harry,_ ” Donna replied, her tone serious though she wanted to laugh regarding the spy-related term he just said.

“you’re a goddamn spy.” she reminded him. Harry only gulped, his raised eyebrows signaling an _‘I know, but…’_

 

Donna shook her head in disbelief, thinking if she can do anything about it.

“You’re seriously going to need help.” she concluded.

“Right,” Harry nodded in agreement, though he knew it had become a bigger embarrassment by admitting it. “Please,” he said, offering his arm. Donna sighed one last time before she took it, and they proceeded to walk away from the promenade.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry opened the door, allowing Donna to step inside his hotel suite. “Comfy,” she said, her eyes wandering the spaces around them, mesmerized by the luxurious interiors. “Courtesy of MI6?” she asked, out of sheer curiosity. “Not MI6, but yes, courtesy of my agency.” Harry simply answered, following her steps until he stood close in front of her.

Donna acknowledged his moves but stayed still, waiting for his next action. As a result, they only stood there a little awkwardly in the living room face-to-face, not knowing what to do next.

“Just take your time,” she suggested, resting her hands on Harry’s arms, as a mean to comfort him since he’d been standing there looking a bit tense. “Anything you can do to impress a woman.” she added, with a small reassuring smile.

Harry only smiled in relief, accepting her idea as he came up with his own. “Let me make us a drink,” he offered, then he went to the counter at the corner of the living room.

Still impressed by the ambience of the room, Donna followed Harry to the counter with her eyes still scanning her surroundings. She found herself even more amazed by the completeness of his bartending set, though she knew that’s only what to expect from staying in a five-star hotel suite. She wasn’t just really used to it.

Harry took all the ingredients he needed, combining all of them in such skillful moves as if he was an expert in that job. Donna watched him in awe, even more amazed now and was convinced that there must be so much more from this inexperienced gentleman spy.

Once finished, Harry poured their drink into the cocktail glasses, handing one of them to his guest. They clinked their glasses together, and took the first sip of them. With that, Donna shot him a greatly delighted look, in response to the taste of the liquor he made.

“This is one heck of a proper martini,” she complimented, her tongue wandered around in her mouth, cherishing the aftertaste that remained.

 

“Impressive?” Harry asked, a proud smile started to spread on his face.

“Impressive.” Donna confirmed, and that made Harry’s smile grew wider.

 

Coming up with another idea, Harry finished his drink quickly and went straight to his record player, looking through his stack of vinyl collections before finding one to play. Within moments, the room was filled with soft classical music.

Donna smiled at his choice, taking another sip of her martini before proceeding to take Harry’s hand. He pulled her to the center of the living room, then they began to dance slowly.

“Miss De Verley likes my dancing,” he claimed proudly.

“I can see why she does,” Donna responded, acknowledging his commanding but gentle moves. It started to encourage her more that Harry could be inexperienced, but he must have been trained well enough to be that smooth; to have such confidence and capacities he needed to do his job. Perhaps all he need was just a bit of kick in the head, and Donna was glad to be there for him even if unintentionally at first. But then she knew, those series of unfortunate events did tell her that somehow fate had brought them together.

Their moves went more intense following the music, with Harry taking her by surprise by dipping and spinning her once or twice in such unpredictable but steady moves. It made her a little dizzy but she must be lying if she didn’t find that alluring.

 

“Impressive?” he demanded her opinion once more, as he dipped her for one last time and their faces were only inches apart.

“Impressive.” she confirmed, referring both to the dance and the way he dipped her that could make her have the urge to capture his lips right away due to their closeness and his intense gaze. That could’ve been just the perfect moment, she thought, but Harry pulled away and brought them back on their feet.

 

 _Too bad,_ she thought, but then she knew that he might have done that on purpose. Apparently Harry Hart really did know how to become such a tease, and he was doing that excellently.

The music went slower, and their dance turned into slow, lazy moves. They swayed, and their hold on each other grew tighter.

“You’re supposed to be preparing yourself for Kalokairi,” Harry said, his voice came in a murmur as he spoke closely to her ear.

“Yes, but unfortunately, people or even the world might be in danger if I didn’t help a hero to save the world tonight.” Donna replied, pulling away to see his face. Hearing her answer, Harry was definitely in awe, unable to say a word and only smiled. He then leaned closer and she did just the same, meeting their foreheads, acknowledging the growing sense of intimacy between them.

“Care to elaborate?” he asked, and that received a slightly confused look from Donna. “Elaborate what?”

“Why are you helping me?” he made his question clear, his curiosity grew deeper but his voice softened.

 

“I don’t know,” she started, looking away and shaking her head lightly, trying to put her words correctly. “Things could’ve been worse. If we didn’t trust each other you could’ve killed me earlier.”

Her answer might be a bit harsh, but she knew that it was the truth and perhaps he needed to know that.

 

“Same goes to you, I think.” Donna shrugged, her mind now drifted to all the things Harry had done to her in the past less than 48 hours. “Why are you telling me all of… these?” she asked back, referring his job, his plans, his possessions—everything meant to be a secret that she discovered.

 

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, not expecting to think such things. He just somehow did.

“Things could’ve been worse,” he chuckled, mirroring her words.

 

They somewhat made sense to his own situation—like he said to her earlier, he was lucky because Donna had no ties to his target and her involvement hadn’t put herself in danger by far; he was lucky because it was _her,_ and not anybody else—and only in that moment he realized that everything went quite spontaneously but yes, he had to admit, things could’ve been worse.

At the realization but without thinking further, he closed the small gap between them, capturing Donna’s lips with his own. At first they knew the purpose of their night together was something quite planned, but their kiss was nothing felt obligatory. It was spontaneous, it was pure, it was tender, it felt nothing like intentionally seductive, or of sorts. It felt like it just happened without thinking what they had to do next as planned before.

“I just know I could trust you,” he said as their lips parted, his voice soft, remembering the previous day when he saw her for the first time in that small café, when he revealed his real identity by accident. _Spontaneously. Out of reflex._

“When you know, _you know._ ” he added, his voice softer and came out in a whisper.

Donna smiled, convinced about how this superspy stranger was exceptional from the start. As a spy he could be smart, manipulative, and so on, but Donna knew when one is completely honest, especially when one could only open up when she was around.

“You can trust me,” she responded, a warm smile spread on her face.

Harry smiled weakly upon her response. From that moment on, he knew that it was going to be his regular job to engage someone sexually when needed, but this time shall be quite different;

He knew he made mistakes by revealing who he was and what he did to Donna, but their small conversations about trust and spontaneity previously let him know that this might not be too wrong—even better, maybe this could be the best series of coincidence in his life and accepting Donna’s help somewhat made him feel as if he’s willing to really make love, not just as a spy work—and that’s a good thing.

And so he leaned in for another kiss, passionate and full, determined to make the most of their night.

Donna melt to him completely, allowing his commanding but gentle kisses to devour her with every once in a while his lips went down to travel her neck.

“Harry,” she moaned softly, as his kisses grew messier and hungrier but in a good way. Harry stopped for a moment, opening his eyes. “Allow me,” he said, pressing his lips to her temple softly before continuing, “Allow me to take you to bed,” he demanded. There was a clear hint of lust in his eyes but his touches around her remained calm, gentle.

Naturally, Donna didn’t plan to make any big move since it was Harry’s part in the training. But there she was, hopping so her arms clung to his neck and her legs clung on the sides of his hips, as an action of approval. Despite this surprising move Harry caught her steadily, his head leaned up to greet her lips again with his own, taking her with him to his bedroom as they kissed each other desperately.   

 

 

* * *

 

 

Harry Hart was indeed a man full of surprises. He was both rough and gentle; bouncing between the two modes just at the right times, almost nothing like a first time. Like a gentleman as ever he always asked for her permission for everything he wanted to do to raise up their pleasures, and once permitted, he would do it without hesitation but no less gentle.

“Tell me, Harry,” Donna started, struggling even with shortest words, still panting heavily as Harry pinned her down the bed, his strong arms wrapped around her as he went deep into her within every thrust.

“How do you think Fleur would like it?” she continued, challenging him. He slowed down as he went to think for a while.

“She likes her man brave,” he replied, recalling the moment he asked Fleur for a dance just hours before.

“So be it,” she responded, shooting him with a more seductive smile. “Do it as if I’m Fleur De Verley.”

Harry responded with a rather unpleasant look, both not wanting to get rough especially with Donna even when it’s the point of that training, and to imagine the woman under him as someone else.

“What if I don’t want to?” he replied, trying to bargain. “For now, I don’t want you to be someone else,” he stopped moving, focusing his attention to see her face as he tried to gain some breath.

“Just you.” a warm smile spread across his face, then he brought one of his hand to softly caress her cheek.

Donna could feel herself blushing at his response. She wondered if his reply was part of his acting in this ‘training’ or he really was being honest.

But then, what’s the point of removing the context of the training if you want to succeed this mission? And so, Donna started to think it was the latter.

“That’s flattering, Harry,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “But mission comes first.” she said sternly, putting her hands on his shoulders to persuade him.

Harry fell into a brief silent. He looked away for a moment, his already messy hair bangs flailed around as his head moved.

God, she really spoke like that. She could be a Kingsman herself, Harry thought.

“Alright,” he finally said, pulling away and began to proceed to Donna’s suggestion. In a surprising move, he pulled her by the legs and brought them to lean by his chest and Donna whooped at his moves. The position gave him a clearer access to her entrance, as well as a higher pleasure they could get.

“As you wish.” Harry said, re-entering her without any warning and began to pound into her. Donna was shocked at his moves, her body went tense and she found herself needing to grab any closest object to keep herself from moving way too loosely by his thrusts; a pillow, the bed sheet, Harry’s body, anything.

“Oh my God, Harry,” she whimpered, watching him pounding aggressively she could see his hair bangs swinging around wildly now.

 

“Impressive?”

“Fucking impressive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter is longer than I expected because A: I lost control and B: I discovered many canons that might be too good not to write!
> 
> Till the next (last) chapter, lovelies. Hope you liked it :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, lovelies! Also turns out, this chapter is longer than I expected...
> 
> Once again, you might find a lot from this story/chapter that used a song from Mamma Mia as a reference: 'Our Last Summer' by Colin Firth, Pierce Brosnan, and Stellan Skarsgård.

To Harry Hart, it might be the first time in his Kingsman life to be in a mission and wake up in the morning with someone next to him—but not once he would ever regret it, especially when it was _this_ particular someone.

She was still asleep in his arm, clinging tightly to him he could feel her breath hitting his skin every time she exhaled. Slowly he brought his hand up, reaching to brush the golden locks of her hair. Before too long, he found himself deep in thoughts of what’s in front of him.

As he watched her sleep with his arm around her, Harry realized that it was such a moment he wished he could freeze forever. Normal life was so peaceful—no, normal life with _this_ woman was so peaceful, and somewhat beautiful— _and they’d only spent time together for a few days._ So he just stayed right there, watching her sleeping so peacefully as he keeps brushing her hair in gentle strokes, trying not to wake her.

The longer he contemplated and the more he didn’t want things to change at that precise moment, the louder the other side of his mind alerted him; he knew this moment couldn’t last forever. He knew that the two of them wouldn’t be allowed to stick around each other for long.

At the gloomy realization he frowned at himself, then quickly dismissed himself from the thoughts and helplessly he buried his face into her locks, his lips hovering on her temple.

His moves unwittingly woke her up as she felt him shifting underneath her. She opened her eyes, and suddenly her self-consciousness hit her when she found her own arm wrapped tightly around his torso.

“Morning,” Donna greeted, quickly pulling her arm back to herself as she found it quite awkward seeing herself touching him clearly in the daylight—because no matter what, he was still a stranger she met just a few days ago. 

“Morning,” Harry replied simply. Donna yawned a little as she began to stretch her limbs, and Harry found himself amused by the sight.

“What are your plans today?” she asked, her hand landed back on his chest. And boy, she didn’t think his chest was _that_ muscular until she saw it in the daylight. It wasn’t the bulky kind, though. Just lean and muscular, like the body of a swimmer.

“Just a bit of work, then I have quite a long free time before the big game tonight,” Harry answered.

“ _Big game,_ ” Donna responded with a sly grin, and Harry smirked.

“Since I’m free this afternoon and you’re not off to Kalokairi yet, how about showing you around town some more?” he offered, knowing he was completely down to spend some more time with her for that day.

“Excellent idea,” she responded without thinking. “You work, I make some tea.” Donna ordered, getting up from the bed and searched for some clothes she could wear. “I think we can just order the breakfast to our room. What do you say?” she asked, picking Harry’s white shirt from the floor that came oversized on her body once she wore it. “Whatever you like,” he replied in agreement.

Harry got up from the bed himself, putting on his boxers before grabbing his briefcase to work on his daily report. He was dealing with confidential documents so he sat down by putting a distance between them, allowing him to have a sense of privacy in the open plan room. Donna let him to do so in understanding, leaving each other to their own works until only silence was exchanged.

They could feel themselves enjoying the comfortable silence. Donna didn’t mind him being so silent since he went fully fixated on his work, but little did she know, Harry couldn’t help smiling when he heard her singing and humming as she prepared their tea, while he was reading through his paperworks.

Not long after that their breakfast arrived and they had them together in the dining room. Harry finished his breakfast a little quicker and excused himself to shower immediately, realizing that he need to get her some new clothes for that day since Donna didn’t bring any of her own to his hotel.

He returned with a yellow halter neck summer dress, and Donna was beyond impressed that he also managed to get some accessories to complete her outfit.

“This is very pretty,” she complimented, holding the dress up her shoulders and see how it fits her body. “Thanks Harry.” she said with a happy smile, pecking his cheek.

She went to change her clothes right away, and when she returned, Harry stared at her in awe as she spun around playfully in her dress, the hem flailed around beautifully.

Donna stepped forward to take Harry’s hand but something about his looks made her come into a halt and stare at him from head to toe.

 

“Do you always dress like that?” Donna asked, pointing at Harry’s dapper double-breasted navy suit that came complete with his crisp white shirt, Windsor knot tie, a pair of shiny oxford shoes and a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. Not to forget his use of gold cufflinks and a signet ring, and the way he brushed his hair. The man really breathed United Kingdom in the warm Parisian air, and Donna started to wonder if he really had something with fashion from how he chose the dress for her and the way he dressed himself.

“Yes,” he replied simply, suddenly went self-conscious and looked down to his outfit, see if there’s anything wrong with it.

Donna shot him with a smug smile, then took him by surprise by starting to undo his tie.

 

“What are you doing?”

“Just giving a little adjustment, trust me.”

 

She gave some more last touch, and stepped backward to see her finished work. “Ah, better.” she smiled proudly, with Harry now having a more… casual look. His tie was gone, his shirt was unbuttoned on the first two buttons, his hair was ruffled up a little on the bangs.

“One more thing,” Donna said, taking off Harry’s glasses. He closed his eyes and gave a little smile, just a little annoyed but surrendered anyway. He realized how he dressed way too sharply for Donna and the rest of Parisian summer’s liking. “Let’s go,” Harry said offering his arm, and with that they left for the day stroll.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Donna and Harry went on some touristy activities that day. They cruised the river, did a bunch of museum hopping, explored local markets. Both enjoyed the stroll and of course each other’s company, and Harry liked the idea of their visit to Rue Mouffetard Market; it was such a rare on-mission chance for him to walk around town carefreely and to visit such a lively neighbourhood. Luxury shops could be too much for him, so that somewhat felt like a blow of fresh air.

 

“Donna,” he called, picking an item from the rack. Donna walked over absentmindedly, and stopped when Harry lifted his hands to reveal a silver necklace, her eyes instantly went wide at the artistry of the piece he was holding.

“ _Papilio troilus,”_ Harry said, went to stand behind her and brought the necklace through above her head. “Also known as Spicebrush Swallowtails. They are among the largest butterflies in the world,” he continued, setting the necklace down on her.

“Very beautiful.” he added, staring at Donna’s reflection in the mirror with the necklace now fully settled on her. She found herself speechless as she could only stare at it for a good ten seconds, still in awe by the complex carvings it had before she could say a word. “Indeed,” she said, “Very very beautiful.”

 

“I want you to have it,” Harry finally said, retrieving some cash from his wallet. “No, Harry you don’t have to—” “I insist,” he cut in, already handed the cash to the seller. “Come on,” he offered his arm, ready to take them some other place while she still stood there speechless. Donna smiled, proceeded to take his arm and gave him a long kiss on his cheek as they walked away from the merchant. “Thank you Harry,” she said smiling ear to ear, while Harry’s cheeks went deep red and he could only smile in response.

“How did you know all of that?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a lepidopterist.” he simply answered, matter of factly. Being a lepidopterist was his dream job, long before he decided to join the Kingsman. Even before joining the army. It was an honest answer, it was personal, but it was nothing close to wrong to share it to her.

Donna stared at him in admiration, truly not expecting the answer. “You’re indeed full of surprises.” she said, tightening her grip around his arm. Harry smiled proudly, and they continued their strides along the road.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lunch was lovely. Donna and Harry knew that it was the last mealtime they could have together, and they were glad they chose just the right restaurant. After finishing their lunch, they stepped out of the restaurant and found a band playing on the plaza.

Donna’s eyes lit up as she heard the familiar intro of the song. She turned around and grinned at Harry, pulled his hand then ran towards the sound of the cheerful tunes. “Oh my God, I love this song!” she squealed in excitement.

Finding himself unprepared to be pulled away like that, Harry hesitated considering his (perhaps) still lack of spontaneity, but he let Donna take him anyway. After they’re close enough to the band, Donna began to swing Harry’s hands and led him into a carefree dance as she began to sing every word of ‘Waterloo’.

 

 

_My, my,_   
_At Waterloo Napoleon did surrender_

_Oh yeah,_   
_And I have met my destiny in quite a similar way _  
_ _

“Donna,”

“Um, what are you doing?”

“Please, love,”

“No,”

 

Harry felt a bit embarrassed at first, as he watched her singing so care freely and swinging his hands, commanding him to join her dancing to the music. Not that her singing and her dancing were horrible; in fact, her voice was really sweet as he could recall the moment he heard her humming in the kitchen earlier that day and her dance moves resembled her cheerful spirit; energetic, and still somewhat alluring.

It was rather because he thought it was just so silly that a debonair gentleman in a suit like him singing and dancing in the open air and being watched by the public. It was even sillier because it was really spontaneous, which made him so hesitated at first.

 

 _The history book on the shelf_  
_Is always repeating itself_

 

Their dancing turned into spinning moves as the song was nearing its refrain, and Harry found himself drowning in such a bliss he could rarely have as he spun around with Donna’s hands firmly holding his, and now he started to sing the lyrics of the refrain, joining her.

 

 _Waterloo I was defeated, you won the war_  
_Waterloo promise to love you for ever more_  
_Waterloo couldn't escape if I wanted to_  
_Waterloo knowing my fate is to be with you_  
_Oh, oh Waterloo finally facing my Waterloo_

 

_My, my!_

 

The moment they reached the second verse, there was a crack of thunder and only then they realized the sky was getting dark.

 

 _Oh yeah_ _  
And now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight_

First drips of rain started to fall. Donna and Harry’s dance stopped for a while as they took a look up at the greying skies. But they didn’t stop to sing, somehow, and Harry thought for a moment if they should find a shelter because the band that performed the song had stopped playing and already went to find a shelter for themselves.

 

 _And how could I ever refuse_ _  
I feel like I win when I lose_

 

He would stop, Harry thought, if he was alone or with anybody else in this situation. But he kept singing in harmony to her melodies, and when he saw her face there under the rain, he just knew:

 _He would never want it to stop,_ and he wished he could store the images of that moment inside his memory forever. And so, Donna and Harry proceeded to sing and swing some more under the rain; just the two of them, now without any band or music playing in the background, and they really didn’t mind.

  
_Waterloo I was defeated, you won the war_  
_Waterloo promise to love you for ever more_

 _Waterloo couldn't escape if I wanted to_  
_Waterloo knowing my fate is to be with you_  
_Oh, oh Waterloo finally facing my Waterloo_

 

The song came to an end, with only the two of them left on the plaza in the open air, laughing in the rain.

“Let’s get you prepared before you get cold,” Donna said, staring up as she leaned on his chest, knowing they had to rush because Harry’s got a work to do: big game of the night.

“I never get cold,” Harry replied looking down at her, a small smile spreading on his face. The rain poured heavily and the air got a little cold, but they had their arms wrapped around each other and that was more than enough. They looked into each other’s eyes and said nothing, before Harry finally leaned down to capture Donna’s lips with his own and they ended up kissing, long and fiercely under the rain without a thought.

These few hours with Donna were nothing compared to the span of his entire life, but only in these short moments, Harry could forget such a thing called Kingsman. There was no Galahad, no mission, no undercover. He’s just there as Harry Hart, an average man unaware that he’s falling for a sweet stranger called Donna Sheridan. Just Harry, and Donna.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They arrived back in Harry’s suite, with Donna had been determined to help Harry prepare for his ‘big game’ until the last bits.

In the shower, Harry contemplated everything once more: being a Kingsman, falling in love with a stranger during mission, and actually letting her know about his job. It suddenly felt wrong—no, it always felt wrong, but he realized that the thoughts about that were the kind that always stayed at the back of his head that he wished to never resurface.

Once finished, he stepped out of the bathroom and went to put on his outfits. There, he watched her already in fresh clothes, drying her hair with towel and smiling absentmindedly at him once she noticed that he’d been staring at her. He smiled in return, more of a sad smile if only she could notice as he was still deep in thoughts…

 

Donna had so much ahead of her that would be such pity if given up to living in danger alongside Harry. Like, really… She just graduated, she had tons of dreams, she had Kalokairi on her way. The same goes to Harry; he had so much ahead of him and risking or giving up Kingsman for a stranger, even the kind like Donna, was never an option.

So Harry came up with a decision. He was heart broken, of course, but he thought it was better now before it gets too late.

 

“Before I make my way to the dinner, do you mind if I walk you back to your hotel?” he offered, approaching her.

“Sure, thanks.” she replied simply.

 

 

* * *

 

 

And off they went to Donna’s hotel. Harry insisted to have a look around her room for a minute, and Donna agreed.

“Ain’t as cozy as yours,” Donna commented once she let him step inside her room, and Harry only responded with a small smile.

“Now off you go, don’t make the woman wait,” she finally said, approaching him. “And remember,”

 

“Always impress her,” they both said in unison.

 

“That’s my man,” Donna complimented proudly, straightening his bowtie.

She stayed put in front of him, straightening every crease of his shirt and jacket as she gave another words of affirmation because she just felt she had to. Harry could only watch how her lips move, struggling to hear every word she said because her voice suddenly sounded faint to him as he went deep in thoughts once more. Giving up, he leaned down, locking their lips in a deep but soft kiss.

“Thank you Donna, for everything.” Harry said as their lips parted, his hands rested on her sides while her arms remained clung to his neck.

“Pleasure,” Donna replied, “It’s actually been quite thrilling to meet a spy on my first trip.” she admitted, her eyes wandered around his face. “I wonder what’s next.”

A sad smile formed in Harry’s face as a response, though a part of him lit up at the possibility of her finding more exciting things on her next journey.

 

“I wish we had more time,” he replied.

 

“What do you mean…?” Donna responded, knitting her eyebrows in confusion for a mere second before her face lit up in optimism. “You can see me again later when you’re finished tonight, or before I’m off to Kalokairi,” she said, offering some ideas. “We can always keep in touch.” she added, shrugging her shoulders, waiting his approval.

“I’m afraid not,” Harry stated. His voice was stern, but his gaze remained soft to her eyes.

Donna could feel her heart sunk, _deeply_. She could feel the first tears began to form in her eyes and the pain burdening somewhere inside her chest, but she swallowed it.

 

She had to understand, _that he was a goddamn spy._ So there she just stood still, nodded after hearing what Harry said.

 

“I really had the time of my life here, and that’s thanks to you Harry.” she replied, and gulped before she could continue her words.

“I’ll never forget this,” she added, nodding sternly at him as she forced a smile and tried not to look too sad in front of him because she knew what she had to do in that particular moment: to reassure Harry, to bid a good farewell.

 

Harry could only stare at her, her last words only broke his heart even more.

 

So he shook his head, pulling away from her. “I can’t let you do that,” he said.

“Please, don’t remember me. Don’t remember this,” Harry added, and before Donna could ask what he meant, he lifted his left hand to level her neck.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pressing the button on his watch then an amnesia dart was shot on to her neck.

 

She fainted instantly and Harry quickly caught her, leading her unconscious body to rest on her bed. “I’m so sorry,” he said again, over and over.

 

“Till we meet again, Donna.” he said, pulling a blanket up her body.

“Safe ride to Kalokairi,” he added with a sad but reassuring smile, planting a kiss on her temple longingly while she lay there unconscious.

 

With that Harry left, taking a look for one last time still with a sad smile forming on his face, before he finally closed the door and went to continue his duty as a Kingsman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the last chapter of Harry and Donna!
> 
> At first I quite had a doubt that I could make these two (Mamma Mia and Kingsman) into a crossover fic (since I love them both and one of the actors that I also love so much starred in both movies). But I really felt like I had to do it, and I'm glad that I did :")
> 
> Hope you liked and enjoyed it. Thank you so much for leaving kudos! Till then, lovelies :)


End file.
